


Phoenix

by Anonymous



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Character Death, Frozen-inspired, GoT-inspired, M/M, Medieval Fantasy, Multi, Rapunzel-inspired, human!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 11:55:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1604252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Arthur had always been a recluse. That doesn't seem to stop the endless proposals of marriage from neighbouring royalty and nobility from their kingdom, despite the fact that he was already betrothed (technically) to Gilbert Beilschmidt, the Chief of Royal Guards. Damn his father and promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phoenix

**Author's Note:**

> A Rapunzel/Frozen inspired fic. Also with some Game of Thrones elements. No need to be familiar of any to follow.

The Lady Astrid, Her Majesty and His Highness's wife, was barren. Each of her attempt to produce an heir had always meet with varying degrees of success. Whenever she thought of herself to be heavy with child, it would seem to be a false alarm later on.

Then there were the three times that her King would rejoice because all were sure that she was pregnant, as their court physicians would confirm. Then there were the three times that she miscarried.

Heavy with grief, Lady Astrid would mourn the loss of a life lost, refusing to speak and would eat little for months. Her duty as queen left unfulfilled, King Edward would do all he can to soothe her soul. The first miscarriage had been in their youth, and it softened the King's heart until he fell in love with the woman his parents had arranged for him to marry.

Lady Astrid, moved by the gestures of comfort of a near stranger at the time (for the truth was, she was grieving because she could not fulfill her duty as queen, and it was fear that drove her to tears), had fallen in love with the King as well. All the times they had slept with one another afterwards were of love and passion, the belief that Lady Astrid was barren led to many explorations and experimentations to keep their coupling exciting. Still, Edward was unable to resist sleeping with Astrid even during the other two times she was heavy with child.

This went on for years until they reached the point that Edward's unblemished skin had small wrinkles forming, and his hair lined with grey: Astrid, on the other hand, had crows' feet and laugh lines to go with the streaks of silver in her locks.

This was also the time when the nobility of the kingdom began vying for the crown, each presenting their strengths before the King, boasting tales of bravery and success in the battlefield. The King had taken to considering it as well, resigned that he had no prince to continue the royal line.

Until Astrid became pregnant once more.

The kingdom rejoiced, while the nobility ambitious enough simply eyed the crown in envy. Instead, they had plotted on ways for the queen or the possible heir to perish. If the child was female, however, they had began to prepare hidden storages of dowry to seek favour in the King's eyes.

Edward on the other hand, did not want to lose his child, thrice had been enough. Instead, he resisted temptation, choosing to spend hours of tenderness with Astrid instead of their usual sessions of passionate lovemaking. He would kiss her brow and feel his child grow within her belly, making sure the servants attended to her every whim and prepare every dish she had taken a craving to.

Months were a bliss to him, his courtly duties were done with a terrifying excitement and passion he usually did not have (for Edward was notoriously disgusted with anything not to do with horseback and swordfighting) and the kingdom prospered in a way it never had before. Peace and trade was what their kingdom had been known for, their neighbours had also started expressing interest in the heir, wishing that the Queen would bear a girl to marry.

Then, the Queen inexplicably fell ill. She grew weak and pale, incapable of sitting up in bed or eating anything that is not broth. Edward was stricken with grief and fear, announcing a missive that whomever would cure his Queen, he or she may or have a descendant marry the heir. The King did not care if a man was to cure his wife and his child was a boy, or if a hag was the healer and the child was a girl, as long as Astrid and the child lived - the King will have them wed.

The kingdom and their neighbours had thrown themselves into a frenzy, searching for herbs and minerals to heal the Queen. All met with failure, and the Queen grew weaker as time passed by.

In his anger and grief, the King would not entertain anyone bearing a cure until they have proved it to be true. Still, none had healed the Queen.

One day, however, the son of the head of the castle guard had been collecting herbs for his own sick mother (who was also heavy with child). He was exploring a forest few dared enter for it was rumoured a witch resided deep in the woods, warding off strangers with spells and creatures strange. Still, that did not stop the boy because none of these touched him and he felt as if he held an understanding of sorts with the witch. Many had considered his appearance to be strange, with hair white as snow and eyes red as wine.

His father had come with the Queen, as he had been her guardian in youth before she married Edward. His parents wed a scant fourteen years ago, and then conceived him two years later. Their neighbours had regarded him as someone to bring good luck when his caul was still over his head when he was born. Then it turned to fear and wariness when he opened his eyes for the first time to reveal blood red irises and the hair that grown atop his head had grown to white when it began with blonde.

Their neighbours did not dare lay a hand against him because his father had the King and Queen's favour. That did not stop the slurs and insults though.

Not that the boy minded, he just wished that they simply say their fears to his face instead of whispering it behind his back.

The boy shook his head and continued exploring, tsking when a certain fruit or berry did not meet his standard. He continued going deeper, holding the charm that held his caul and a lock of hair tight, praying for protection.

The forest was fertile, without a doubt, but what he was searching for had yet to appear. The boy himself was unable to explain why, but he simply knew none of these herbs can heal his ill mother.

That was then he heard a strange song from the crooning voice of an old hag. Curious, the boy made his way to where it came from. He was under the impression the supposed witch of the woods was a nonexistent tale to keep the children from wandering inside (but he did wonder why the adults refused as well) and getting lost.

The boy entered the threshold of a meadow, blinking at the sight of a house made of brick with a thatched roof. There was a garden in front of the house and what seemed to be a worktable next to an enormous cauldron. By the cauldron was an old woman stirring its contents as she hummed.

"Fine day to be alive, is it not, boy?" It took a while for the child to realise that the witch spoke to him.

"What?" he said, blinking. "The queen is sick and everyone had gone insane because they want to marry the princess. Or prince, I don't really know, but everyone's bonkers."

The witch cackled. "Of course, but none of them can cure her, now don't they?"

The boy shrugged.

The witch continued stirring while the child watched her. Red eyes then began to observe the garden, perhaps there was a healing herb in the witch's garden?

Then his gaze fell on a single flower in a pot, standing on the house's windowsill. It had nine petals, coloured gold with edges tipped in green, it's leaves were spiky and it's its tips were gold. Then the boy blinked, and the flower turned into a white daffodil when he looked at it once more.

"Is it alright if I...-" before the boy finished his sentence, the witch spoke.

"You have good eyes boy," the witch said, making the child jump in surprise. "What's your name?"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt," he replied.

"What about this? For the charm around your neck, I'll give you two petals - enough for one sickly mother."

Gilbert's eyes widened and he beamed at the witch. "Thank you!"

"Also, a chance to meet the Prince," the witch paused. "For four petals, I want your charm and a meeting with the Prince."

"What the hell you old hag, what would I do with two extra petals?"

"For the Queen! Of course!"

"Oh!" A beat. "Wait, why would I want to marry the Prince?"

"Ohohoho! Who doesn't want to marry the Prince? Endless riches, finest food and wine, servants to attend your every need?" the witch was grinning widely, her teeth yellow and sharp. Her grey eyes glowed with a strange gleam, and it made the hair on the back of Gilbert's neck stand.

"I just don't want to, alright?" Gilbert snapped with a scowl, crossing his arms and raising his chin up in defiance. "Besides he's going to be like my baby brother, Ludwig!  And why do you think that the royal baby would be a Prince? Everyone is saying that he would be a girl. And who are you anyway?"

"My name us Margaret, call me Maggie though." Maggie seemed to be contemplating something before she answered.

"The same way you know that you will have a brother instead of a sister." The witch removed the ladle from the cauldron and placed it on top of the worktable. "You have Seen that the children your mother and the queen are carrying are both boys, and you're just scared because you don't want to be burnt at the stake."

"No I'm not!" Gilbert shouted, red-faced and scowling. "Just give me the petals and I'll give you my charm and take you to the Prince!"

Maggie snorted and rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine. Brew a pair as tea with eight cups of water, add three drops of milk for flavour, and then extract from vanilla bean for aroma. In three months, your mother and the queen will give birth in the same day. Except your brother will come with the rising sun, and the Prince will arrive with the dusk of night."

 

Gilbert nodded as Maggie grabbed two pairs from her magickal plant. She retrieved a piece of parchment hidden in her robe and placed the petals in them, folding the paper before giving it to Gilbert. "Your mother must drink this in the light of moon for it to be stronger and faster. She would have to drink two glasses for the first batch, and she will grow strong enough to stand. Then she would continue to drink one cup until the seventh day in order to be truly cured. To keep it fresh, simply cover the concoction. Did you understand all of that?"

"Yeah, eight cups, three drops of milk and vanilla bean extract. Two cups on the first day, then one until the seventh before she gets better. Cover to keep fresh."

"Excellent," Maggie grinned. Then she held her hand out. "Your down payment, please."

Gilbert handed the witch her charm.

"Wonderful. Come back to me when the Prince is born, I want to meet him."

Reluctantly, Gilbert nodded. "Will they really get better?"

"What do you think, boy?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "Fine, I just thought I'd need to be sure. I'm going now."

"Then go," with that dismissal, Gilbert began to run his way home.

When the white-haired boy was out of sight, Maggie laughed to herself. "Finally!"

 

\-----

 

Before Gilbert tried brewing the cure, he begged his father for the King to see his mother's progress as proof. The captain of the guard, Wilhelm, reluctantly shared Gilbert's discovery.

Edward, trusting the soldier and friend, had Gilbert's mother, Helga, transferred to the castle to monitor her progress. However, he still made sure that Helga was genuinely ill, the court physician giving a confirmation that the boy was telling the truth and his mother plagued by the same illness that touched the Queen.

Gilbert specifically requested for her to be transferred to a room where the light of the moon can touch her. The boy himself had brewed the tea, asking for the finest milk and the best bean for the extract. When night came, he gave his mother two cups to consume, and then she fell into a rare and pleasant sleep. Her face that was once pale and sweaty held sweet peacefulness.

The very next day, Helga had leapt from her bed like a maiden in spring, stronger and healthier. Yet she did not last, exhaustion and tiredness seeping into her bones.

Yet it was enough to give the King hope.

The next night, he asked Gilbert to brew a batch for the Queen, using the sweetest and freshest water from the finest spring in the kingdom. The best cow had given the best milk, and the best farmer had given the best bean of vanilla.

It was a week later when the Queen and Helga had gained strength, and the kingdom rejoiced. Well...

"-until dusk. You have gained enemies from the peasantry to foreign royalty. Learning to defend yourself is your primary priority, you must learn how to use the sword, bows and arrows, lances and spears, shields, and horseback." The King was pacing worriedly around his private study, his most trusted guards and friends were outside, waiting for the two to finish negotiating.

Gilbert, on the other hand, was sitting on a chair and staring at the King like he had grown another head. "What if I don't want to wed the... child?"

The King stopped and then turned to the boy. "What?"

Gilbert shifted uneasily, trying not to be disturbed by the King's piercing gaze. "Well, I am still a child, right? I don't want to be married to someone isn't born yet. I just want...."

Gilbert chuckled nervously, wringing his clothes between his hands.

"Is it riches? That if easy, you may take as many as you wish from the royal coffers. Glory? Your name will forever be scribed in every record and tale, where every generation will speak of your nobility and bravery forever. Perhaps-"

"No!" The King stared at the boy that held him silent.

"I mean... I don't want riches and glory, well I do, but...," Gilbert made a motion with his hands. "Not like this. I want to get it on my own. But...."

The King remained quiet, patiently waiting for the boy to make up his mind.

"I want a pardon." Gilbert clenched his fists together in silent prayer. "When I do something inexcusable to your eyes that is not murder, thievery, deceit, or treason - I wish to be pardoned."

The King stroked his silvery beard, gazing at the boy with interest. "Is that so, my child?"

Gilbert bit his lips, and then nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Hm.... Very well then. It is a strange wish, forgiveness for sins to come."

Gilbert smiled, and the King had to take a second look for something ancient and wise had taken residence in the childish face with red eyes. "It's not forgiveness, it's inaction for wrongdoings. If... well, there are to be wrongdoings."

The King remained silent, assessing the boy and mulling over his words. Gilbert tried to remain still after a few minutes, the lack of reply had made him nervous and uneasy.

"I am curious, what sort of wrongdoing are you planning that you seek inaction before it's done?"

Gilbert's lips twitched to a slight smile. "You'll see."

\-----

 

Gilbert never dared forget his promise to Maggie, for he knew how spiteful they can be. In preparation to entering the forest, he bought a veil for Maggie to wear so that no one would grow alarmed when he finally bought her to the palace.

On the day his brother was born, when the clock struck noon, he had snuck off to the forest to take her to the castle, so that she may see the Prince as was promised.

He was surprised that he reached her home in a shorter amount of time than he did on his first adventure.

"Aren't you a little early, Gilbert boy?" she cackled.

Gilbert, who was now thirteen because his birthday was a month and a half before, rolled his eyes and tossed the veil to the witch's lap. The old hag was sewing, and she looked at the garment with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't want to be burnt at the stake," the boy said.

"The birth is at the eve, why are you haggling me?" Maggie complained.

"I'm not taking you now, I'm just getting ready!" Gilbert defended in a huff. "Like you said, it's still at dusk."

The witch shrugged, tucking the veil inside her robe and continued her embroidery.

"What do you want with the Prince, anyway?" Gilbert asked, plopping on the grass, content with the sensation of grass beneath his hands. "You're not planning on kidnapping him and keeping him hostage, are you?"

The witch dropped her materials and gave Gilbert a scandalous glare. "What on earth gave you that idea?"

"Then... cursing him to death because you weren't invited to his christening party?"

"No!"

"Killing the Queen, get married to the King as someone else, and have the Prince-"

"What have you been reading?"

"You're a witch I'm taking to the birth of a royalty, of course I'd be suspicious. I had to make sure the King would pardon me because you might kidnap the guy and the King might go after my head and-"

"Boy, there would be no killing, maiming, kidnapping, or cursing on my part!" Gilbert was about to open his mouth to retort when a leaf magickally clamped it shut. "I'm old, passing down knowledge had been tradition in my line, do put two and two together."

Gilbert's eyes widened in realisation and he made a muffled sound of 'oh' before the leaf was removed.

"How do I know I can trust you?" Gilbert asked with narrowed eyes.

Maggie waved her hands dismissively. "You can, but. You know what, I can induce either a heart attack or aneurysm from the King," she cackled. "And he won't be able to do anything about it."

Gilbert stared, unsure of what to say.

"Just you watch!"

There was a comfortable silence after that, as both waited for the right time for the Prince's birth. It was around a few hours later when the telltale alarm bell of the castle rang,

"That's our cue," Maggie said and then donned the veil after taking out of her robe.

Silently, the two made their way to the capital, the witch concealing her face with a charm and veil. Gilbert simply led the way, checking behind him every few seconds to see if the hag was catching up. Thankfully, her strides almost matched Gilbert's own, despite her curved back and knobbly knees.

The capital was a bustling city, but today, many were surrounding the castle walls as they awaited news of the Prince's birth. The setting sun bathed stones a light orange, and turned the shadows darker and hues red. The cobbled streets were empty, but faint murmurs from crowds drifted in from alleys and roads. Gilbert guessed that the guild masters were anticipating the Prince's birth as well, for many specialty shops and guilds were deprived of their teachers and apprentices. In one of the streets, he saw an enormous table laid out with food, prepared by various agitated cooks so that they won't miss the announcement.

It was a good thing that his father knew a secret passage or two into the castle, so he began guiding Maggie to the grotto near the Beilschmidt home. It was only a few blocks away from the castle, and Gilbert could already see the throng creeping around the edge of their street.

"Dad will kill me if a peasant finds out about this place, so we should be careful."

Gilbert didn't have to look behind him to know the crone rolled her eyes.

They were only a few blocks away from the grotto when the bells rang again, and heralds came running outside to announce the wonderful news.

"Her Majesty Astrid had given birth to a son! His Majesty Edward had named him Arthur George of House Kirkland!" On it went, news including for the day of Arthur's christening and presentation to the people of the capital were included, and already Gilbert could imagine that the King was probably having servants prepare one of the estates in a nearby county for the Queen and the Prince to live in until he turned onto an age where he can join his parents on public affairs.

He was called back by reality by cheering, deafening cries of joy and excitement drowning out any possible sound.

"Alright, we're here." Gilbert moved the altar, wincing at the sound of stone scratching against stone, but he was infinitely glad that the celebrations muffling it.

A dark and damp passage greeted the two, and the boy motioned for Maggie to go in first. "I need to close this when we get in," he explained with a grin. "Besides, your arms are like sticks, you'd just break them instead of close the door."

It took an hour of moving through the underground maze before they reached the door to the guards quarters, in Wilhelm's quarters to be precise.

"You won't tell anyone about it, right?"

"Of course not."

It took almost an hour of sneaking around and avoiding guards to get to where Gilbert guessed the King would be after the Prince's birth, which would be the shared quarters with the Queen. Aided with the knowledge of guard shifts, clever charms by the witch, and memory on where the halls lead to - Gilbert eventually managed to find the exact place he wanted to go.

There were guards around the room, of course.

"Let me handle this one, boy." With a wave of her hand, the guards crumpled to the ground, snores drifting out of their armour.

The sound of bodies hitting the ground would have alerted a nearby patrol, so Gilbert pulled the witch and ran towards the door and slammed it open.

Inside, Their Royal Highnesses, Gilbert's family, and a redheaded noble snapped their gaze towards the white haired boy who was clutching an old drone.

"Gilbert," Wilhelm began in a stern tone.

"She's the one that have me the herb that cured mum and the Queen and I gave her my caul and promised her to meet the prince please don't kill me I'm pardoned!" All of that was said in a single breath.

The witch removed her veil.

"Mother?!" the King exclaimed, standing up.

"Surprise, you sappy bastard," she said with a cackle. "I'd wager you thought you'd never see the last of me!"

"You were married with father when you had me!" the King retorted. "You had the cure all along! Why didn't you say anything?"

"Is that how this is? I've been sending you letters that I want to meet the girl that has you trailing her like a lost puppy, but it's always perhaps next time mummy, and you know I can't enter unless invited!"

"What was I supposed to do? Or say? Oh Astrid, this is my mother, a hideous crone that lives in the wood, and the reason living there is because she slept with a-"

"Don't you dare go there boy, I pushed you out of my cunt in case you forget! I had been cleaning your piss and shit-filled bed sheets before you could walk!"

The King was about to reply when the noble clutched his shoulder, his whole body trembling, his other hand hiding his face. Gilbert could hear the man hiding his laughter.

"Oh Edward," the Queen said softly, in such a way that made man in question blush horribly. "It's wonderful to meet you, Your Majesty," she said sincerely and kindly, green eyes light with amusement.

"Ah, I like her already." Maggie's gaze then fell on Wilhelm and Helga.

"Thank you," Wilhelm said, bowing. "You helped save my son's and my wife's lives. I am grateful to you both and Gilbert."

"Dad," the boy grumbled, his face bright red. "No need to remind me I'm awesome."

Helga laughed, holding little Ludwig close to her bosom as the boy slept, undisturbed by the commotion.

"Where's my grandson?" the witch snapped, the current Queen smiled and held the newborn towards her mother-in-law from her chest.

 

"His name is Arthur George, after Edward's father and after mine."

Maggie hobbled over to the boy and took him gently, cooing. "He was born with a caul over his crown." Eyes widened in surprise, no one knew that except for all present for the birth. "This boy will bring ruin to the kingdom."

As soon as the words left the old queen's mouth, the present Queen gasped and the King marched towards his mother with a roar. Wilhelm and the noble brandished their swords and were about to cut the woman down when Gilbert shouted.

"Wait! What she said is true," all turned towards the boy who was looking at the newborn with piercing red eyes. "But.... He'll be the one to bring it further above the heavens, he-"

Gilbert chewed on the inside of his cheeks, thinking of the appropriate word.

"He is a phoenix," Maggie continued. "He will burn everything in his path, he will destroy all he will touch, and he will make fire and chaos rain from the skies. But from the ashes, forged by his powers, something better will rise. He will bring this kingdom glory like no other, power like no other, and he will stand atop the world to rule it."

Maggie was now holding the boy up, looking at the child with such conviction and pride that a collective chill settled over the room. Arthur must have sensed the atmosphere because he started to cry, searching for his mother's warmth.

"But it shall be a cycle, unless tempered with a fire that purifies, Arthur George Kirkland will become a tyrant, ice encasing his heart and soul, where the stars would be not far from his grasp."

A silence had settled in the room, the witch had returned her grandchild to the Queen who then began to soothe the boy. Despite the strange prophecy, she will never stop loving her son.

"What do you mean?" the king m King asked after a pregnant pause.

"Love," Gilbert answered. "Love would keep him from destroying and rebuilding everything."

"I wouldnae think it'll be th' easy." The noble crossed his arms. "Do ye ken wha' some of the nobility would do if they 'eard about this? We need tae increase the guards, keep'im away from-"

"Treat it as nothing." All turned to Wilhelm. The man's blue eyes were intent on Arthur, there was hardness in there, yet it did not seem to be directed at the boy. "What happened here did not happen. There is no prophecy, Prince Arthur George Kirkland is simply an ordinary child. There are no changes to the arrangements of his guardians, mentors, and interaction."

A silent understanding seemed to have dawned upon the occupants. Maggie, on the other hand, cackled," except I teach him magicks of course!"

The King turned to her. "Mother...," he began with a tone of warning.

"What? I need to pass on everything from the grimoire, and," she paused. "I also had meant the powers literally. He is already different because he literally does have magickal powers!"

"Fine," the King grumbled. Then his gaze fell on Gilbert. "I suppose this is your pardon then."

Gilbert smiled sheepishly.

"I want to flick your ear for bringing my mother here."

The woman snorted. "Even if I'm not here, what I said would still be true."

The King sighed, standing next to the Queen and kissed her forehead, before leaning down to kiss his son above his brow (which looked suspiciously thick, like the King's) as well. "I suppose I should thank you."

"My son, is there something we should know about him too?" Helga said suddenly, almost surprising everyone present.

Maggie narrowed her eyes. "He will kill the Prince. How, it depends in context," she said to keep her own son from cutting her off so she may explain. "If the Prince becomes a tyrant, Ludwig will be the hero to strike him down. If the Prince goes into battle to protect the kingdom and he is wounded fatally and painfully, Ludwig will be the one to end his misery. Ludwig won't kill the Prince for as long as there is no need."

A heavy silence settled over the room once more. After a while, it was Wilhelm who spoke again. "This changes nothing either."

"It won't," the King agreed, rising to his full height. "Arthur will love and learn. He will see the plights of our people, he will train with the soldiers as one of them, he will play and laugh like any child would. A Prince is an image and position of power," be declared, chin up and head held high.

"But Arthur is simply a child, if he brings the kingdom to ruin, then so it will be bought into ruin. If he brings the kingdom to glory, then glory be to his name. His destiny is his choice, he is my son and that's what matters!"

The King turned to Wilhelm. "Your son is your child, he is not my son's slayer. His destiny is his own."

Wilhelm looked stunned at the proclamation, but a smile graced his lips. He bowed down before the King in respect. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

The King nodded and then turned to Gilbert. "Come here, he said gently.

The boy reluctantly stepped forward. The King knelt down to face the boy at eye level.

"For saving my wife's life, for my son... I know not how many times I said it, but I'll keep in saying thank you. This meant more than you know."

Gilbert blushed at the praise. "Thanks," he said, unable to think of anything else to say.

The King grinned, and Gilbert finally saw the resemblance between Edward and Maggie. "If you did not say what you said about love, I might have locked Arthur in a tower or kept him inside the castle for heavens know how long just to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone or himself! Out of fear, no less."

The Queen and the noble looked alarmed at King's admission. Gilbert smiled dryly. "That might have turned out well."

The King rolled his eyes. Then he rose up, and with a flourish, began to pace.

"Now mother, now that you're living in the castle again, I expect you to at least bathe once every three days, I have no idea what woodland creature you decided to-"

"I am probably cleaner than you, you brat."

"The christening would be in a month so Madam Beilschmidt and Astrid may recover properly. Rare as this is, I want Astrid to be there when our son is blessed. Ludwig's baptism is up to you, Sir Beilschmidt, I just want you to attend Arthur's."

"I have ointments to quickly heal their-"

"And Morgan, do bring Alistair so that Arthur can have a playmate and don't forget to invite Gwyn and have him bring his own child..... Fitzgerald! Of course, of all the times those two decided to go on a hunting trip together...." And the King continued to ramble on, bringing a smile to the Queen's face and laughter from the noble. Gilbert's parents looked amused at how much energy bouncing off from the King as he planned the celebrations and whatnot.

The Queen then motioned for Gilbert to come near, and the boy obliged.

"When someone doesn't catch his fancy, marry him, alright?"

Gilbert spluttered and it seemed that everyone heard it.

The boy blushed when the King and his mother teased him endlessly about it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Never realised that baptism back in the Middle Ages were the day after lol. Since here, it's like a month or so, so that the baby could have at least be less likely to catch diseases.


End file.
